wherever they are and bring them here to me.’ It was done as he had
spoken. And when at last the two stood before him in the tepee _okige_,
for they had hidden far away to be alone together, they were so afraid
that they could hardly stand. But the old chief smiled at them and
said: ‘Sit down beside me here, and do not be afraid. No law is made
against your being young, and, if there were, I broke it long ago.’
“So the young woman sat upon his left, and on his right the other. And
when the three had sat thus very still for a long while, just looking
at the ground, the old chief spoke to the _akichita_: ‘Bring here to
me my best buffalo runner, the young sorrel with the morning star on
his forehead.’ And when this was done, he took the end of the horse’s
lariat and placed it in the hands of the young man on his right. Then
he said: ‘Give me my bow and arrows yonder’; and these also he placed
in the young man’s hands.
“Then he turned to where the young woman sat weeping with her face in
her hands, and what he did then was very hard for him to do.
“They tell it he was very gentle while he undid the long braids of the
young woman, who was weeping harder now. And when her hair was hanging
all loose down her back and she was just a girl again, he took a comb
and combed it gently. Over and over he combed it, until it was all
smooth and shining like the bend of a crow’s wing in the sun. Then with
great care he parted it and braided it again, doing this very slowly.
And when the braids were tied, he took the woman’s hand and placed it
in the hand of him who sat upon the right. ‘Go now,’ he said, ‘and be
good people.’ Some tell it there were tears upon his face, but others
that he kept them in his breast. I do not know.
“All this was many snows ago, before the sacred hoop was broken, and
when people still were good.”
VI
_Chased by a Cow_
The old man chuckled after one of his long silences. “Yes,” he said,
“I wondered if the great voice was angry when it called to me on the
pointed hill. But my grandfather was not angry about the pipe, and
maybe the great voice was not either. I thought and thought about this.
Maybe that was the only voice Wakon Tonka had, and it only sounded
angry because it was so big. Maybe it was cheering me for making the
offering.
“Everybody was getting ready for the big hunt, and something wonderful
was going to happen. I might even get a cow, a lame one; and then
everybody would praise me. Anyway, it would be a calf--one that got
lost, maybe in a draw to one side away from the herd. When I had killed
it, I would find my mother and grandmother, and they would come and
butcher it. Then we would pack the meat on Whirlwind, and when we came
into the village with the meat, people would notice and my grandmother
would tell the other old women: ‘See what my grandson did, and he is
going to give it all to the old people.’
“The scouts had gone out to look for a bison herd over towards where
the sun comes up, and one day the criers went about the village,
calling: ‘Make moccasins for your children! Look after the children’s
moccasins!’ And that meant to be ready, for we were going to move. Then
early next morning the criers went around, calling: ‘Councilors, come
to the center! Councilors, come to the center and bring your fires!’
They did this because in the old days a long time ago, the people had
no matches or flint and steel. They could make fire another way in dry
rotten wood by rubbing sticks together, but that was hard and could not
always be done. Fire was sacred then, and had to be kept alive when the
people moved. Then when they camped again, everybody came to the center
and got fire for their own tepees. They did not have to do it this
time, but it was part of living in a sacred manner, and that was good
for the people.
“When the councilors had brought their fires to the center, the criers
shouted to the people: ‘Take it down! Take it down!’ And the women all
began taking down the tepees and packing everything on pony-drags. Then
when everything was ready we began moving towards where the sun comes
up, for that way the scouts had gone. First were the six councilors
on foot; then came the chiefs with the criers behind them, then the
_akichita_, and after them were the people with the loaded pony-drags.
If there were enemies to be feared, there would be riders out there on
our flanks and some ahead and behind; but there was no enemy to fear
the way we were going; and we were so many that no band of Crows would
attack us moving.
“There were four _teoshpaiay_ going together on this hunt, one after
the other in a long line; and it makes me feel good to remember how it
looked. The _akichita_ were not very strict before we came near the
bison, and the children could play along the way. Maybe the girls would
pick pretty flowers or dig up some wild turnips, or there might be a
clump of rabbit berry bushes looking smoky with the berries getting red
in them, like sparks; or, if it was late enough, plums might be getting
good to eat, and the children would pick them while the people were
passing. The bigger boys could play ‘throwing them off their horses.’
That was a rough game, but it was good for boys because it helped them
to be brave warriors later on. They would divide up into little bands
and charge each other, wrestling from the horses’ backs, and sometimes
a boy would get hurt. I was not big enough yet for that game, but I had
a good time on Whirlwind, and sometimes I would get on a high place and
see all the people traveling in a sacred manner. They were happy, and
you could hear them singing here and there along the line. Maybe a drag
pony would lift his head and neigh because the singing of the people
made him want to sing too; and then the other ponies would lift their
heads and sing down along the line.
“That was the next time I saw Tashina. I was riding up and down the
line with some other boys; and when we came to where the Miniconjou
were, I heard somebody cry out: ‘_Shonka ’kan! Shonka ’kan!_ Come and
pull my tepee!’ And it was Tashina looking up at me. I was getting
to be a big boy, for I had mourned and wandered, and I had killed a
deer. Also I was going to kill a bison cow pretty soon, or anyway a
calf. So I was too big to play with girls any more, and I did not say
anything back. I wanted to talk to her, because I liked her; but I just
made Whirlwind prance and rear. And when I rode away, I could see her
sticking her tongue out at me and I heard her cry: ‘Yah! Yah! Go and
eat grass! Go and eat grass, _Shonka ’kan sheetsha_ [bad horse]!’”
With a chuckle the old man went into one of his reveries, gazing at me
with eyes that saw what wasn’t there. “She _was_ a pretty little girl,”
he said, more to himself than to me; “a very pretty little girl.” Then
the focus of his gaze shortened to include me, and he continued:
“It was a time for the people to be happy, so we traveled slowly. And
when the sun stood high above us, it would be time to rest awhile and
let the ponies graze. The councilors would choose a place where there
was water and good grass. Then the criers would call out to the people:
‘Take off your loads and rest your horses! Take them off and rest your
horses.’ And if wild turnips were growing there, they would say: ‘Take
your sticks and dig some turnips for yourselves!’ And the women would
do this while the ponies drank and grazed and the councilors sat on a
hillside watching the people. And when they had smoked together maybe
two or three pipes, it would be time to move again, and the criers
would call: ‘Now put on your loads! Put them on!’ And we would move, as
before, until the sun was getting low.
“By that time the councilors would know a good place to camp for the
night where there was plenty of wood, water, and grass, and the criers
would tell the people to make camp.
“We were all camped the sacred way, in a big hoop of four hoops with
the opening towards where you are always facing [the south], and the
tepee-thrown-over-together was in the center. The drags were all
outside the circle, and, all around, the horses were grazing with the
horse guards watching them. Smokes were standing above the tepees, for
it was morning and the people were eating.
“Then there was a crier shouting: ‘They are returning! The scouts I
have seen. They are returning!’ And all the people came out of the
tepees to look. Three horsebacks were coming over the hill towards
where the sun comes up, and they had something good to tell, for as
they galloped down the hillside we could hear them singing together.
“When they had entered the hoop where you are always facing, they
turned to the left and rode single file about the circle from left to
right, looking straight ahead and saying nothing; and the people waited
and were still. And when they had come again to the opening, they
turned to the right and rode towards the center where the councilors
and chiefs were waiting in the tepee-thrown-over-together. And as the
riders came near, a crier spoke for the scouts, calling to the chiefs
and councilors: ‘Come forth and make haste! I have protected you, and
you shall give to me in return.’
“Then the chiefs and councilors came forth, and the scouts sat down in
front of them, facing the tepee, and all the people crowded around to
see and hear.
“Then the chief filled a pipe and lit it; and when he had presented it
to the Six Powers, first to the four quarters of the earth, then to the
Great Mystery above, and last to the ground, which is the mother of all
living things, he placed it on a buffalo chip in front of him, with the
stem towards the scouts. There was bison hide on the mouthpiece of the
pipe, and it was sacred; for it was through the bison that Earth, the
mother of all, fed the people, and whoever smoked the pipe was nursing
at his mother’s breast like a little child. The chip was sacred too,
for it meant the bison. They were the life and shelter of the people’s
hoop, and when they died, the sacred hoop was broken.
“Then the chief spoke to the scouts: ‘The nation has depended upon you.
Whatever you have seen, maybe it is for the good of the people you have
seen it.’ And when he had said this, he offered the pipe to the scouts.
They took it, smoking in turn, and that was a sacred vow that what they
told would be the truth.
“Then the chief spoke again, and said: ‘At what place have you stood
and seen the good? Report it to me and I shall be glad. You have been
raised on this earth, and every corner of it you know. So tell me the
truth.’
“The first scout was so anxious to tell that he forgot the sacred rules
and held up his thumb to the Great Mysterious One. But before he spoke,
the chief shook his head and said: ‘_Hunh unh!_ The first finger! The
first finger for the truth!’ So the first scout raised his first finger
and said: ‘You know where we started from. We came to a hill yonder,
and there in the next valley we saw some bison.’
“The chief stood up when he heard this, and said: ‘Maybe you have seen
more farther on. Report it to me and I shall be glad.’ And the second
scout raised his first finger, saying: ‘Beyond this hill there is
another, and there we saw a small herd grazing in a valley.’ And the
chief spoke again: ‘I shall be thankful if you will tell me more of the
good that you have seen.’ And the third scout said: ‘From still another
hill farther on, there we saw a big herd grazing in a valley and on the
hillsides.’
“Then the chief spoke again, saying: ‘Maybe you have not told me all
the good that you have seen. Tell it now, and all the people will be
glad.’ When he had said this, the scouts forgot the rules and all began
talking together: ‘There is still another hill! _Wasichu! Wasichu!_
There was nothing but bison all over the prairie! More than many looks
could see! _Wasichu! Wasichu!_’
“When they said that, they did not mean white men. They meant very,
very much of something, more than could be told or counted, like a
great fatness. Then the chief cried out: ‘_Hetchetu aloh!_ [So be
it].’ And all the people shouted, ‘_hi-yay, hi-yay_,’ and the grazing
horses out yonder, hearing the people, sent forth voices, neighing for
gladness; and dogs raised their snouts and howled.
“Then the criers went forth and the people were still to hear them:
‘Many bison I have heard! Many bison I have heard! Your knives you must
sharpen! Your arrows make sharp. Make ready, make haste, your horses
make ready! We shall go forth with arrows. Plenty of meat we shall
make!’
“I had already sharpened my arrows so often that if I sharpened them
much more, I wouldn’t have any left. While the people were all getting
ready for the big killing of meat, the council sent for certain young
men who were being noticed by the people, and to these the chief said:
‘Good young warriors, my relatives, your work I know is good. What you
do is good always. So today you will feed the helpless and the old and
feeble. Maybe there is an old woman or an old man who has no son. Or
there may be a woman who has little children but no man. You will know
these and hunt only for them. Today you belong to the needy.’ This made
the young men very proud, for it was a great honor.
“Then as the people were taking their places for going to the hunt, the
criers shouted: ‘Your children, take care of them! Your children, take
care of them!’ After that the children must stay close to their parents
and not run around, for they might scare the bison; also, they might
get hurt.
“Then we started off towards the big herd. First went the three scouts,
riding abreast to show the way. Then came the councilors and the chiefs
with the criers; and after them came all the _akichita_ riding twenty
abreast, and next were all the hunters, four or five abreast. If any
hunter rode ahead of the _akichita_, he would be knocked off his horse
and he would get no meat that day. Also, he would see shame in all
eyes. The killing was for the nation, and everyone must have the same
chance to kill. After the hunters were the women and older men, who
would follow up and butcher the kill. Each hunter knew his arrows by
the marks, and so he claimed his meat. And if two should claim a kill,
then an _akichita_ could decide between them or have the meat divided.
“We did not stop to rest that day, and when the sun was getting high,
we began to see bison. Sometimes they were scattered out and sometimes
there were small herds, but nobody was allowed to shoot at them or to
cry out in a loud voice. They might get frightened, and the running
fear might spread like fire in dry grass, until the big herd yonder
caught the fear and started running. It was hard for the younger
hunters riding behind the _akichita_ up there; but no one pulled a bow
or raised a voice; and all the children kept close to their mothers
with the drags in the rear.
“The sun was high and had started down a little, when we saw that those
ahead up yonder had stopped on a ridge to look. And while they were
looking, voices came running all along the line down to us: ‘Many bison
they have seen! Make ready, make haste! Make ready to follow with your
knives! They are going to charge!’
“Then just when the voices had come running back to us, we could see
the hunters and _akichita_ up yonder splitting into two big bands; one
to the right and one to the left.”
With a hand at his brow the old man peered narrow-eyed at the head
of the column on the ridge that was a lifetime away. Then, clapping
his hands high above his head, he cried: “They are charging over the
hill! They are all charging! The hunters and _akichita_ are charging!
_Hoka-hey! hoka-hey!_
“Everybody was excited, and the people were hurrying towards the hunt,
except the very old ones and the women who stayed back to take care of
the drag ponies and the children and to set up the tepees; for that was
a good place to camp and there would soon be plenty of meat to dry and
many hides to tan.
“Nobody was noticing me, and there were no _akichita_ around there,
so when I saw the hunters charge I charged too--not towards where the
hunters had gone, but away from the people to the right where there was
a big patch of buffalo berry bushes to help me. When Whirlwind and I
got behind them, we started on the run towards where there was a break
in the ridge ahead, to the right of where the hunters went over. While
we were crossing the valley, my calf grew so fast that when I rode into
the ravine, it wasn’t a calf at all any more, but a big fat cow, and
maybe even two cows.
“The ravine was full of thunder that was coming from a rolling storm of
dust ahead. And when we got close over there and stopped to look down,
we were a little scared. Whirlwind snorted and wanted to go back, but I
had made an offering and I had to do something.
“Dust and thunder, dust and steady thunder with bull voices roaring in
it! And wherever the dust blew thinner in the wind or lifted a little,
there were backs, backs, backs of galloping bison bobbing up and down;
bison beyond counting and more and more. And here and there over to the
left I could see horsebacks charging in and out along the flanks of the
herd, killing and killing, lost in the dust and appearing, lost and
appearing. And while I looked, a big man on a big Wasichu horse that
he must have taken from the soldiers came charging out of the dust. He
was after a big bull with only a spear. Just as he was coming in front
of me, he rode close and leaned far over. Then I saw him drive the
spear with both hands in behind the bull’s front leg. I forgot that I
should not be where I was, and I yelled and yelled; but the man did not
know I was there. I could see that his mouth was wide open and I knew
he was shouting for a kill, but he did not make any sound in the steady
thunder. Then the bull stopped and turned and charged the horseback;
but the man did not run away. He was very brave. Also he knew how to
handle his horse, and the horse was wise too. They dodged and reared
and circled until the man got hold of his spear again. Then with both
hands he drove it deeper and pried it back and forth. The bull’s mouth
gushed blood, and when he started running again, he wabbled; and I
could see the man prying the spear back and forth until the dust hid
them.
“Just then, right down there not far away, a cow came loping with my
calf! I did not wait. I charged. It is not easy to put an arrow where
you want it from a galloping horse’s back and the horse all excited.
I was yelling, ‘_yu-hoo_,’ already, because I had one arrow sticking
in the calf’s hump and was pulling the bow for another try at the
right place behind the front leg, when Whirlwind squealed and reared
and wheeled away. For a long time after that it made me feel a little
better when I blamed him for running away with me just as I was really
getting my calf. But I was as scared as he was when I saw the cow
charging us, and I did not look around until we were far up the side of
the ridge. By that time the cow was loping back to find her calf.
“When I got Whirlwind to stand still, I was a little scared yet, and
I was ashamed too. Nobody but the cow saw me running away, but Wakon
Tonka could see everything, and I had made an offering. So I thought,
there are plenty of calves, and when Whirlwind is not afraid any more I
will charge again. Maybe it will be better next time.
“But that part of the herd was getting thinner as it passed to the
right, and I could see more and more hunters among them, killing and
killing. Sometimes I could even hear their cries above the rumbling
sound when they killed: ‘_Ohee! Yuhoo!_’ Then I said to myself, ‘If I
go down there now they will see me and the _akichita_ will get me.’ So
I did not go down. Anyway, it was good to watch the hunters killing,
and that is what I did. Afterwhile, when the dust and rumbling had
passed, I could see the people yonder scattered in spots all over the
prairie butchering the kill. That made me very hungry, so I galloped
down there where the grass was beaten to dust; and wherever I came to
a butchering they would give me something to eat--a chunk of liver,
maybe with gall poured over it, or a piece of the strip of fat that
runs along the backbone. It is good raw, but it is even better roasted
a little. By the time I found my grandmother and grandfather, they
had a fat cow all cut up on the stretched-out hide. They told me to
ride over to a draw and to get some dry brush; and when I got back, my
grandmother made a little fire. Then she roasted pieces of fat hump
meat, and some old people came over to help us eat it.
“When the sun was getting low people were going back to camp with their
horse-loads and drag-loads of meat and hides; and they kept on coming
in with their loads long after it was dark. Before the feasting began,
all the councilors and chiefs went into the tepee-thrown-over-together,
and people came from all over the village with gifts of the best meat.
This is how they gave thanks for good leading. Then the councilors
cried, ‘_hiya-hiya_,’ and sang all together to the bringers of food.
And when the councilors had eaten awhile, the criers went about the
village again, calling: ‘All come home, for it is more than we can
eat. Come home! There is plenty for all!’ Then the people came with
their cups and crowded about the tepee-thrown-over-together that all
might have some of the councilors’ meat; and after that the feasting
began--feasting and dancing all night long. I can see the circle of
the village yet with all the fires and the happy people feasting
and singing. It makes me want to sing, too, for that is the way the
Grandfather meant we should live. It was the sacred way and it kept the
people good.
“That was near the Rosebud River, and it was a big killing; for we
stayed there and killed until there was plenty for all. We had no
hunter in our tepee, but the chosen young men offered us more than we
could use, and my father’s brother-friend, Looks Twice, took care of
us. He brought the meat to my grandparents; but I know now that he was
thinking most of my mother, because he wanted to be my father; and
afterwhile he was.
“Next day there were drying racks all over the village, and I can see
the stripped red meat turning brown in the bright sunlight, and the
brown turning black. And I can see the happy women sitting in little
circles with their sharp knives, unwinding the chunks of meat in their
laps. They are joking and laughing and holding up their strips of meat
to see whose is thinnest and longest. And outside the village raw hides
are pegged out everywhere, and the old women are scraping and beating
them for the soft tanning that made them good to wear and to sleep in
on the coldest night.
“But I kept thinking and thinking about the calf I did not kill and of
the way I got chased by the cow. If it had only been a bull I might
have felt better. It helped a little to blame Whirlwind for running
away; but then I would remember the big voice that called to me on the
pointed hill when I offered my grandfather’s pipe, and I began to feel
sure the voice was angry at me.
“Some of us boys made a war-game of sneaking up to the racks at night
and stealing meat without getting caught. It was like going on the
war-path for enemy horses. We had war councils out in the brush before
we went and kill-talks around the fire if we got back safe with the
meat. That was fun; but I kept thinking and thinking about the angry
voice, and I was not quite happy. I wanted to try for a calf again, but
I was afraid to try because I kept hearing the great voice scolding me
for stealing the pipe from my grandfather.
“When my grandmother noticed how I was acting, she said: ‘I wonder what
is the matter with our grandson. He looks queer and he does not say
anything.’ Then my mother looked at me and said: I think he has been
eating too much again. He is always eating.’”
VII
_Going on Vision Quest_
After putting a chunk of cottonwood in the sheet-iron stove, I sat
waiting for the old man to emerge from a reverie that he seemed to
be inducing with faint, dreamlike tones from his eagle-bone whistle.
Finally, as he had given no indication of emerging, I broke the
silence: “Are you sure now that the great voice was not scolding you?”
He peered squintingly at me for a while, and said: “I am very old, and
I have learned so many things that I do not know much any more. Maybe I
was wiser before my ears were troubled with so many forked words.
“In the old days, it was from the seven tepees and the seven council
fires that our teaching came. It was older than the oldest grandfather
could remember his grandfather telling him; and more and more
grandfathers before that until it was old as hills, old as stars.